


Best Laid Plans

by pann_cake



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 23:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12714675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pann_cake/pseuds/pann_cake
Summary: The sides came out okay, but the turkey? Seth didn’t want to talk about the turkey





	Best Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse for this. It is utter fluff but I could not be stopped. These boys just needed come cuteness. Apologies if it's so sweet it makes your teeth hurt.

It all started with a simple, throwaway conversation. Seth didn’t think Dean even really noticed that Seth immediately began formulating a plan. All Dean said was that he couldn’t remember ever having an actual Thanksgiving dinner. Seth hadn’t been home to Iowa for the holiday in years, since they were always on the road and the powers that be tended to prioritize Christmas over Thanksgiving anyway when it came to giving the superstars a little vacation time. As it turned out, this year the RAW roster didn’t have a show on Thanksgiving, though they were still on the road. So Seth’s plan was to get up that morning and feign illness to get Dean out the door of their hotel room with Roman, who was in on the whole idea. 

But after that, things didn’t exactly go according to his plan. Which Seth _hated_ just on principle. He was known for his schemes, though usually they didn’t include surprise holiday meals when he could barely cook a homemade dinner for himself. He’d enlisted Sasha and Bayley to help him, and with a little convincing and a good tip, they managed to briefly take over the hotel’s kitchen to get it all done. 

The sides came out okay, but the turkey? Seth didn’t want to talk about the turkey. It was dry, and burnt, and may have set off the smoke detector so that the entire hotel had to evacuate. They were all back inside by the time Roman texted him that they were on the way back, but Seth was already mortified. 

The girls helped him carry the actual edible dishes up to the room he was sharing with Dean and spread them out on the little table so that it looked presentable. He figured eating a bunch of sides would suit Dean just fine, but it just wasn’t what he wanted. He sighed forlornly down at the sight of the little hotel-room table, which he'd dragged from its spot by the window to be closer to the door for when Dean walked in. It had just looked a lot better in his mind, and the empty space where the turkey was supposed to be was definitely noticeable. 

He heard the door unlock, and Seth held his breath as Dean came in and he stopped fussing with the table to stand next to it awkwardly. Dean stopped in his tracks, mouth agape, looking it all over. Seth rubbed a hand across the back of his neck sheepishly, realizing how lame it must look. Not to mention that Seth had only just now realized that his black t-shirt was covered in flour and other cooking supplies, and his once neat bun was loose and his hair was fuzzy from the heat of the stove and flying everywhere. 

“So, I guess you’re not sick,” Dean finally spoke up. 

Seth’s face immediately blushed, and he moved a few steps towards him. “I, um--” he stammered, then swallowed and started again. “This was supposed to be better, but I messed up the turkey and burnt it to a crisp...I made you a freakin’ boatload of potatoes, though.” He gestured a hand at the huge bowls of mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, and scalloped potatoes. Then he looked back at Dean. “Yeah, I’m sorry, I know it doesn’t look like much--”

Dean just cut him off with a kiss, a firm press of lips meant to shut him up, and Seth sighed into it and relaxed a little. “Well, Betty Crocker you ain’t,” Dean said, chuckling and turning to get a better look at the table. “No one’s ever made me Thanksgiving dinner before.”

Seth smiled a little at that. “Ever?”

“Not ever. Even with a burnt turkey.” Then Dean grinned, suddenly remembering something and lifted up a paper bag that Seth hadn’t even noticed he was holding. “But! I found a fancy-ass deli and got us turkey subs! Roman tried to talk me out of it, but I said even though you were sick--which was a bold faced lie I still haven’t totally forgiven you for--that you could still eat a turkey sub on Thanksgiving.” 

He pressed the bag against Seth’s chest and Seth just looked down at it for a moment, stunned. Then he pulled out the two giant subs wrapped in deli paper, and a full-sized bag of potato chips. Laughing, Seth set it all down on the table, nestling the bag of chips in the space where the turkey was supposed to be, and then moved back against Dean. He curled a hand behind the man’s neck and brought him in for a long, slow kiss. Dean hummed in his throat, his hands sliding around Seth’s waist before his lips moved to mouth along Seth’s neck. 

“The only thing you gotta be sorry for is not being dressed in _just_ an apron when I came in,” Dean murmured against his neck. 

Seth shivered almost imperceptibly and tried to cover it with a laugh, but of course Dean caught it. “I’ll remember that for next time,” he said as Dean turned him and then walked him backwards until Seth was pressed against the table. 

Dean leaned back a bit to give him a look that went right through Seth, his hands wandering around Seth’s back and up under his t-shirt. “Oh, there’s gonna be a next time. I’ll even buy you the apron.”

Dean’s leg slotted between Seth’s as he leaned against him again, his thigh pressing against him in a way that brought a groan from Seth’s throat. Seth’s head tipped back a little as Dean returned to kissing along his neck, the soft press of his mouth and the scratch of his beard against the sensitive skin of his neck making Seth weak. Seth slipped one hand around around the small of Dean’s back to press him closer, fingers dipping a little into the waistband of his jeans, his other hand gripping the edge of the table. 

“It’s gonna get cold,” he murmured, and he felt Dean chuckle against his skin. 

“We have a microwave,” Dean replied with a smirk before capturing Seth’s mouth again. Seth parted his lips to let him in, sighing and letting Dean do whatever he wanted to him. 

In hindsight, it was definitely one of Seth’s best plans yet.


End file.
